


At the Ready, Sir

by Darker_Side



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky told him a lot, Captain America: The First Avenger, Cum Eating, Democratic pounding, Eager boy, F/M, Give me freedom or give me death, He spreads Democracy everywhere, He's a champ, He's a quick learner, Hitler's wet dream, How many weapons can be compared to his dick, Irresponsible patriotism, It stays hard, No Refractory Period, Oh yeah Hitler is mentioned, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, She's a champ, She's not a lady, Virgin Steve Rogers, White stripes of Liberty, army uniform, oh captain my captain, patriotic porn, vulgar, way too many puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 16:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21057098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darker_Side/pseuds/Darker_Side
Summary: She wanted to strip every layer off of him, lick every inch with her tongue, and take him apart with her body. A man like that, a good man with the heart of a warrior, should know what it’s like to claim someone with his body.





	At the Ready, Sir

**Author's Note:**

> Okay… all the Lucifans beware… this is NOT a Lucifer fic. *gasps* [LUNI LEAVE NOW UNLESS YOU WANT A GOOD DOSE OF PATRIOTIC SMUT] I know, I know… What have I done? Please, just move along. I wouldn’t want to ram this down your devilish throats ;) I’ll leave the ramming to Lucifer. 
> 
> I’m struggling with my emotions after Endgame, which I’m sure most of us are, and I’ve been trying to cope with gratuitous amounts of smut. Stucky smut, to be exact, but this idea struck a very carnal chord inside of me. I had to roll with it, before I let myself dive into Stucky. Plus, I’m hoping that anyone reading this could seriously help me out with a prompt! I have some filthy stuff I could bring… just need a prompt!  
Un-beta’d, even by myself. So, mistakes are a high possibility, I just have the inability to read my own shit without wanting to throw my laptop into the nearest body of water. 
> 
> I’ve provided metric conversions for the American measurements for literally everyone else. 
> 
> ALSO: Yes, Steve Rogers is a ridiculously responsible man, however, no one finds it sexy to read about condoms…. So let’s just use our disgusting imaginations and pretend nothing could happen. 
> 
> EDIT: Luni, you beautiful German, willing to lay down you scant morals and read this sweet American dicking… I don’t deserve you! I hope you like it though ;)

This is exactly what you need to imagine. This. 

* * *

He was stunning. There was literally no other way to describe him other than overwhelmingly stunning. The outer appearance was a stark contrast to the smaller version of him, the version that had been his reality for all of his twenty-seven years. Now, mere months after his drastic physical enhancement, he was no longer 5’4”, 95 lbs (162.5 cm, 43 kg) soaking wet. Now he was every bit the man he always had been down to the core at 6’2”, 240 lbs (188 cm, 108 kg). He was _breathtakingly_ perfect. And completely innocent. She would be lying if that wasn’t a large part of why she wanted him. Frankly, it still baffled her that anyone who could look like that would still have an ounce of purity in their (insanely) large body. Alas, Captain Rogers did, and it was sinfully arousing watching him blush and shy away when he caught a girl staring at him. Could you really blame her? With all that muscle, height, blonde hair, and blue eyes framed by long lashes, could you blame her for wanting to give him what a man like that deserved?

That Army uniform was doing _wonders_ on him. Perfectly tailored to hug every single curve on his body, the deep, olive drab complimented his fair complexion, and the golden glint of the pins matched the same flash from his hair when the light hit him just right. It was hard not to stare, but it was even harder not to stare while biting your lip and undressing him with your eyes. She wanted to strip every layer off of him, lick every inch with her tongue, and take him apart with her body. A man like that, a good man with the heart of a warrior, should know what it’s like to claim someone with his body.

Getting him alone proved to be harder than she expected, however, when the opportunity arose, she found herself gently pulling his uniform sleeve into the nearest empty room. He seemed only half-surprised by her actions; many girls on the USO tour had stolen a kiss or two from the fair Captain, and it was surprising none had tried for more. He stood patiently, if not curious, as she closed and locked the door quietly, shutting them away from everything else in the dimly lit room. She kept her face trained on his chest, but lifted her eyes up to stare directly into his, and when he made a move to say something, she stopped him with her lips against his. The slight, startled jump was everything she could have hoped for and she pulled away from the chaste kiss with barely-there smirk on her lips. It was beautiful the way he licked his lips, swallowing thickly, and opened his eyes slowly to meet her gaze with a loud exhale. The spark of utter surprise and delight in those baby-blues was enough to make her core throb with want. But all in good time.

He was standing so tall, and stiff, with his arms slightly bent by his sides and his hands fisted with uncertainty. Even with her heels, she could feel his breath brush along the top of her head, thrilling her in the way some women like to feel small with a lover. She reached down and laced her fingers with his, slender, delicate digits intertwining the thick, warm companions. She watched his eyebrows raise every-so-slightly when she brought their joined hands up between them. She used the leverage to stand closer, pushing up on her toes to bring her face closer to his. Keeping a few inches between them, she waited, and waited, for him to close the distance, for him to seek something for himself. She watched as he stared at her lips before slowly, timidly, he lowered down and pressed his mouth to hers.

His kiss was gentle, calm, and everything she had expected. He tasted sweet on her lips, and his actions were just as sweet as he tenderly pressed soft pecks with closed lips. She chased his mouth, keeping their lips together as long as she could and she lowered their hands to her waist. Untangling their fingers, she pressed his hands above the curve of her hips and applied slightly pressure to bend his fingers around her form. His eyes widened when she lifted one of her hands up to grasp around the back of his neck while the other held on to the lapel of his jacket. Tilting her head, she leaned up and brought him down to meet her, sharing air before connecting with him again.

She ran her tongue along the tight seam of his lips and he froze, his hands squeezing along her waist where they had not strayed. She smiled lightly against his lips and repeated the move, gently nudging his face with her nose. The hand along the back of his neck pulled him down as she slid the muscle along the seam, and this time his lips parted just enough to let the tip of her tongue slide along his teeth. He let out a breathy gasp, pulling back slightly to get a better look at her. She was met with that same spark of wonder, and with a nervous smile, he bent back down to let her kiss him like that again. There was no resistance when she slid her tongue past his lips and into his mouth. Her own moan almost muffled his when he finally tasted her tongue and he instinctively pulled her tighter against the front of his body.

She kissed him languidly and deeply for minutes, letting him get the feel of sliding his tongue along hers and moving his lips in tandem with hers. He was quick and eager to learn, but was still so stiff and rigid. It was endearing for him to be so nervous, and she relished in the slowness she took with him. As he started to quicken his pace, the eagerness beginning to win, she moved her mouth along his chin, soaking in the quiet whimper of losing contact with her tongue. His mouth fell open as he sucked in a breath when her lips trailed along his ear and sucked the lobe ever-so-gently. When her tongue pressed lightly into the strong pulse of his carotid, he released a low groan, which seemed to surprise him just as much as it excited her.

“Does that feel good, Captain?” she whispered softly against his skin, pulling back enough to see his cheeks flush pink and his eyes turn down and away from her with a bashful grin on his lips.

“Y-you don’t have to call me that,” he informed her in a gentle tone, making a double-take when he noticed her staring at him intently.

“Do you like when I call you that?” She watched him swallow and turn away, again, fighting off another bout of shyness. It was ridiculously cute on him, and she only hoped he could somehow keep this level of innocence, even well after her time with him. He nodded his affirmation, eyes still looking away from her. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to like that,” she assured him and he furrowed his brows slightly and looked back at her, heat behind his eyes. It was the first time she could see a hint of arousal, and that was all the permission she needed to continue to mouth along his neck.

He let out another startled gasp when she kissed a line up to the soft skin under his ear and delicately ran her tongue along the curve of his jaw. “That does feel good,” he breathed out, and she chuckled along his neck, bringing her hands down to press against his chest and push him into the wall behind him. His bulk let her put him where she wanted, and she restrained herself from attacking his neck the way she wanted to. Instead, she continued to slowly kiss along his neck and jaw, easily licking along his Adam’s apple to reach the other side. She felt him shudder when her teeth grazed the skin above his uniform’s collar, but his hands remained motionless and flexed on her waist.

She wanted him more comfortable, and getting out of the stiff uniform jacket would certainly help that situation, as well as allow her one less layer between her hands and his skin. She brought her hands down to the golden buttons, letting her fingers hover over to the top one, so tightly buttoned up, much like the Captain himself. “May I?” she asked him, watching his face closely. His eyes went from her hands back to her eyes and he nodded the same barely-there nod as before, and she nearly melted from it. He watched in rapt fascination as she deftly opened each button, letting the material gape and stretch across his body before the sides spread. With a reassuring smile, she lifted her hands to push the jacket off of his shoulders, and he lowered his hands from her waist to let her push the material down his arms. She held the jacket and took a few steps backwards to drape it across the desk behind them. With the bit of distance between them, she admired his form under the dark, olive green shirt and slacks, tan tie a stark contrast, even in the dim lighting. She removed her own jacket, placing the much smaller article down over his before moving back to stand closely in front of him.

Dressed in the same colors, there was no telling where his body ended and hers began, the only difference being her issued pencil skirt and black heels, appropriate for dress wear. She could see his eyes roaming over her figure, taking it in and only becoming timid when he realized she was watching him stare. “Do you want to touch me?” she asked quietly, hope resting on the tip of her tongue as his eyes perked up and his lips parted. He silently nodded again, and she made a note to make him more vocal a little later. “So, touch me, Captain,” she ordered gently, biting her bottom lip in eager invitation.

He swallowed loudly but made no move to place his hands on her body. “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks tinging pink again. He was just too fucking precious to even be real. That deep, resonating voice could strip women in a matter of seconds, and he had no idea he held that sort of power.

The only things that could be heard were the ambient noises of evening work going on outside of the room and their synchronized breathing. She slowly reached one hand up, her index finger lightly pressing his chin up to lift his gaze to hers. “Touch me how you want,” she replied softly, seeing the heat return in his eyes. “Do whatever you want to do.” At that, he seemed to gain a small amount of courage and lifted his hands up to rest on the tops of her shoulders. They completely closed around the joints, and she could feel the warmth spreading through the material of her shirt. She kept her eyes on his face as he watched his hands travel down the sides of her arms with the slightest of touches. When he reached her elbow, he made a move towards her sides, and on the second attempt, he made contact. She gasped when his hands wrapped around her ribs, his thumbs nearly touching on her upper stomach and his fingers splaying over her back.

He seemed to appreciate her form under his hands, and he gave her an experimental squeeze, and it was just enough to push a small moan out of her lungs. He almost backed off, starting to pull his hands away thinking he had hurt her, but she shook her head and bit her lip, and, somehow, he understood. He wet his drying lips before squeezing her again, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth as he allowed himself to massage and grab her freely, just as she had instructed. It was bliss, absolute bliss. His hands were strong, evidently stronger than they should be, and the way he liked to grab and hold onto her made her knees buckle slightly. The potential for greatness in this was astounding. His breathing quickened as he brought both his hands to the front of her stomach, resting them there as if unsure of where to go next. It was a slightly awkward angle, and his arms pushed her away from him, but he surprised her by lifting his hands and grasping the sides of her face in a gentle hold. He looked at her lips for a second before bending down and claiming her mouth expertly. His tongue, barely uncertain, danced alongside hers as he trailed fingertips down her neck.

The sensation made her gasp into his mouth and he moaned, almost delicately, in response. He copied her early stance and left one hand on the back of her neck while the other trailed down over her collar and towards her chest. He was still kissing her when his fingers reached the swell of a breast and he immediately froze. He pulled back and looked pleadingly into her eyes, asking permission he didn’t need. Impatiently, she nodded and lifted her hands to pull him back down by the collar of his shirt. He grunted into her mouth and pressed his palm down over her breast, cupping the mound of flesh and squeezing just as he had on her sides. She sighed against his cheek as he looked down at the way his hand molded around her breast in captivated fascination and want. It was almost child-like how thrilled he looked, as if the feeling was better than anything he had ever expected or dreamt of. He was all sweetness and innocence, but masculine need flashed behind the purity of Steve Rogers and it made the heady desire in the room more apparent.

He surprised her by leaning down and capturing her mouth in a kiss, immediately plunging his tongue into her mouth and curling it behind her teeth. Gaining confidence in the current action, he licked along her lips and mouth while kneading her breasts, switching back and forth and keeping her face close with the grip on the back of her neck. He hesitated when he pulled his mouth away to press small pecks along the corner of her mouth, and then he lowered down further until his lips were at the junction of her jaw and neck. She gasped as she felt him inhale her scent, his nose nudging along her skin before parting his lips and kissing the delicate, sensitive skin of her neck. She held on to his shoulders as he explored the feel of her, tilting her head to the side to give him plenty of room.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice laced with worry and pulsing out of his mouth as warm breath. He stood still again, freezing on the spot, waiting for her answer and not picking up on any bodily clues.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed him against her harder, pressing the line of her body along the impressive length of his. “It’s so good,” she praised in a breathy whisper and groaned when he attached his lips to her neck once again. Large hands moved over her body to meet along her back as his mouth traveled lower to kiss along the edge of her collar. Needing more of his lips on her skin, she hurriedly pulled her arms down and started tugging at her tie, but he grasped her wrists to stop her movements.

“Is it, um,” he started, his brows furrowing as he fought to find the words to say. His eyes darted between where their hands were joined at her collar and her eyes as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Do you, um, may I?” he stammered out, cringing at himself before smiling a genuine, boyish grin. Precious. Fucking precious.

“Please,” she replied, lowering her hands to her sides as he started to loosen her tie with shaky hands. Their uniforms were similar, and she could tell he was beyond grateful for having practice with the tie, as well as the small buttons of the blouse. With his eyes turned down, gazing at every inch of skin that was revealed as he worked down the buttons, she could see the dark roots of his lashes, rimming his eyes perfectly and fading to a lighter golden color fanning over his cheeks. A few locks of lightly mused hair spread across his forehead, and for a brief moment he didn’t look like the super-soldier his outward appearance gave off. He looked like the little guy from Brooklyn finally experiencing something he had been thinking about since he was a schoolboy.

When he reached the last button exposed, his breath hitched in his chest at the sliver of skin he was able to see, and the tease of the satin covering her breasts. She could tell he was mulling over what he needed to do next, holding onto each side of her blouse like a lifeline. Suddenly, with slow, purposeful moves, he tugged on her shirt until the remainder was freed from being tucked into her skirt. He exhaled forcefully as he slid the last buttons out of their loops to let the blouse hang freely by her sides. Tentatively, he reached his hands in to wrap around her waist, skin on skin, just as she moved her hands behind her back to unbutton her cuffs. Once her wrists were freed, she shrugged the blouse from her shoulders and tossed the fabric to the side. His eyes widened at the site of her mostly bare torso in nothing but the cream-colored brazier and her uniform skirt. Losing her resolve, she quickly reached to her side to find the zipper and started to lower it down over her hip. She wiggled out of the form-hugging skirt and stepped out of it, kicking it to the side with her blouse.

Steve’s mouth opened and his gaze went down her body, following the lines of her long legs and back up to her face. He stood there, all beautiful and glorious, in complete awe, and she had never felt more powerful. She surged forward, claiming his mouth and swallowing down his surprised grunt as she brought her hands up to his tie. Roughly, she pulled the knot free and threw it to the ground and started on the top button of his shirt. Her lips followed each open button and kissed along newly exposed skin until she reached his stomach, reveling in each gasp escaping from his lips. She felt the hard curves of each perfectly sculpted ab flex under the light brush of her fingertips and she kissed her way back up to his chest. Yanking his shirt out of his pants, she opened it up and slid the material free from his form.

He seemed surprised but made no move to stop her as her eyes finally roamed the expanse of his bare torso. It was even better than she could have imagined. _Miles_ of unblemished skin only slightly darker than the color of cream. Perfectly curved muscle, soft and firm in all the right places. He was a work of art; the serum they had given him made him look all the God he was on the inside. She wanted to mold herself to him right there, attach her body to his, feel every inch of him all over her, _in_ her, but she didn’t want to overwhelm him. When she could see his skin flushing from the devout attention she slowly looked up into his blue eyes and brought her hands to his chest. “You are amazing.”

His face quickly dipped down and he smiled the same shy smile he seemed to always wear. She loved the way his nose scrunched up, as if he didn’t believe her and hadn’t been told that in his life. That was absurd, he deserved to be told that every fucking day of his life. She lifted her arms higher to wrap around his neck and pull him down to her level. She pressed her lips to his, gently, and let him pace the kiss. He started slow, and the second he pulled her against him, he was shoving his tongue in her mouth. If she could have yelped in surprise, she would have, but he sucked on her bottom lip and every coherent thought left her brain. She felt the heat and pressure of his hands trail down her back before landing on her ass and he squeezed her flesh, grinding her hips to his and releasing an involuntary groan against her lips. He surprised himself with that, and when he pulled back enough to look her in the eyes, she saw his pupils blown wide, and she lost it.

In that breath, her hands were at his belt, fumbling with the buckle, opening the button and fly just as quickly. She heard him inhale and hold his breath as her fingers ghosted over the band of the Army-issued briefs, fabric straining against his erection. Every fiber of her being wanted to yank his cock out and run her lips all over it before shoving it down her throat. If this wasn’t meant to be special, she would have, instead she locked eyes with him before slowly kissing her way down his torso until she was on her knees before him. Kneeling for a man had never felt so right. So fucking _righteous_. She loved the way the muscles under his skin would tense with every brush of her lips, and when her mouth was hovering over the skin right under his navel, he shuddered and let out a small groan.

Looking up at him through her lashes, she slipped her tongue out over her bottom lip and licked a small stripe over the golden hairs leading from his navel to below his briefs. His jaw dropped an inch when he gasped and his hands turned to fists by his sides, and when she blew on the damp skin her tongue left, he exhaled loudly. It was amazing how such a simple sound was so inviting, but she wanted to keep getting him to make that sound, and so many more. _So_ many more. She continued to kiss and lick down that trail, breathing heavily as she slowly started to lower the band of his briefs to reveal the thick, pulsing super-soldier dick of Captain Steve _fucking _Rogers. Honestly, it was a concealed weapon intended to destroy anyone that had the privilege of taking it inside a lucky orifice.

It was endearing how nervous he was; the expression of a boy scared of someone other than himself and his doctor seeing such a private appendage. But, _my God_, that thing deserved to be seen, and held, and _worshiped_. Specifically with her mouth, right that fucking second. Trying to send him all the comforting expressions she could from her knees through her eyes, she grasped the base of his cock with her hand. She literally felt herself drip when a surprised gasp fell from his flushed, pink lips. Maintaining eye contact, she pressed the flat of her tongue along the underside of the base and slowly, infuriatingly slow, licked her way up the impressive length (and girth, let’s be real) and delighted in the full-body muscle twitch it caused.

“_Oh, God,_” he whispered, staring down at her with all the appreciation she ever needed in her entire existence. When she, finally, reached the tip, the smallest hint of salt made her mouth water as she closed her lips around the head. Another beautiful whimper was her reward and it only urged her to earn more and more as she impaled her face on his dick. It wasn’t fast, or sloppy, just a slow glide down every glorious inch he had to offer. When he reached the back of her throat his eyes fluttered closed, hands flexing and stretching by his sides. She pulled off his length, just as slowly, and looked up at him with a gentle smile. As politely as she could, she grabbed one of his large hands and guided it to the back of her head, where he carefully, cautiously, dug his fingers into the thick strands of her hair. He watched her movements with intrigue and uncertainty, but he followed her lead diligently. Threading her fingers with his other hand, she held them to his thigh and wrapped her delicate fingers around the base of his cock again before sinking back down on it.

A string of what might have been construed as words flew quietly out of his mouth as his fingers gripped into her hair with the slightest amount of pressure. She worked him slowly and steadily, varying the pressure and suction to keep it feeling new and sensitive. She was sure it was his first blowjob, and that was a shame, however, she would hold the honor of being the first person to have had his dick in their mouth proudly. She heard his soft moan as she started to bob up and down over him, her hand following in a light hold with every stroke. He watched her closely, in awe, and she hummed her approval when the hand on her head started to guide her speed. He started to understand how it worked, allowing himself to gently press on her head, tilt his head back, bite his lip, and close his eyes. Just letting the wet feel of her warm mouth sliding over his cock register. The view from her knees was something that should be painted, sculpted, captured in whatever manner so that she could be reminded of how Captain America looked with his thick, muscular torso exposed, slightly writhing, with his jaw pointed up and his lips parted. It was fucking magnificent. If her mouth wasn’t so full of his cock, she probably would have told him.

Moan after moan was like receiving multiple medals in the Olympic event of sucking America’s dick itself; and it was an absolute gift. The weight felt heavy on her tongue and the skin was so smooth as she traced the head around her cherry-stained lips. Watching his jaw muscle clench every time she did flicked her tongue along his frenulum was like getting one-step closer to nirvana. Every small thrust, or even those goddamn delicious hip rolls, urged her closer and closer to swallowing down all he had to offer. When her throat had opened enough to slowly start easing the head of his cock down it, the hand in her hair jerked and barely pushed her further down the length until her nose was brushing along the soft golden hairs surrounding his most prevailing weapon. The soft gag had her eyes rolling back, but the Captain, the poor innocent soul he was, was mortified by his actions and immediately dropped his hand from her head.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he stammered out, clearly horrified that he had aided in choking her on his own member. Little did he know that it was a death she was positive she wanted to terminate herself by.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, giving his hand a squeeze against this thigh. “I like that.” The look he gave her was a mix between shock and wonder, but the slight quirk to his lips was all the permission she needed. “I want you to feed me your cock, Captain.” She gave him her most searing stare and moved both of her hands to grip his narrow hips. Opening her mouth as wide as she could, she pulled him forward by his hips and let his cock slide as deep as it could go into her mouth. He stared into her eyes as if he were searching for the answer to what to do next, and all she had to do was repeat the action a few more times before he got the memo.

It was like opening your eyes to enlightening watching as he pressed his shoulder blades into the wall behind him and started thrusting his hips forward and back, gently, to slide his dick in and out of her mouth. She moaned, at an embarrassing volume, in approval and squeezed his hips to keep him moving. Even when she gagged, he kept going, but he watched her face with such fierce determination, searching for even the slightest hint of discomfort. So she made sure her eyes shown with elation and that the tears trickling down her cheeks were the I’m-so-grateful-to-be-choking-on-your-cock kind. The pace quickened and his body was no longer rolling with the grace of a dancer much smaller than himself. He was twitching and choking out strangled groans and grunts, and it was a fucking symphony of eroticism mixed with the best goddamn visual poetry she could ever imagine. Ridiculously broad chest heaving, blue eyes _eye-fucking_ her own, lips shiny and swollen from his tongue and teeth, jaw slack, and the grip in her hair near possessive. _Fuck_, this is what she was hoping for. His body tensed, the hand in her hair pushing her down onto his cock, his free hand hitting the wall hard enough to dent, and the most beautiful raspy groan pushed itself from his chest, and like the Old Faithful geyser itself, he exploded, hot and thick, down her esophagus.

Cumming down her throat had him looking at her as if she were to the key to winning the war. It would be a crime to ignore how his expression of total reverence made her feel proud and hot all over. Her only regret with letting him spill down her throat was that she wasn’t able to taste his release. Still shaking, and still _fucking hard_, he grabbed her hands from his hips and pulled her up, capturing her slick, swollen lips with his own and moaned into her mouth. She gasped at his assertiveness as he licked deep into her mouth, her neck craning back to accommodate his height. She felt the throbbing hard length press into her stomach and she reached down to wrap her hand around it. A low growl emanated from his chest as he instinctively rocked up into her hand.

“My best friend, Bucky, he, uh, he told me about that,” he started, voice soft but slightly breathy, one hand waving through the air to signify (in some adorable fashion) what her mouth had just been doing. A nostalgic grin adorned his face but his eyes shown with reminisced sadness. “That was a lot better than what he described.” He pressed his lips together as if he were slightly embarrassed by the admittance. It made her want to take him apart even more.

“So you liked that?” she asked with a knowing smile, continuing to stroke him by her hip. It was at that point she realized his pants and underwear were still around his tree-trunk thighs, and that just had to be rectified.

“Very much,” he answered, sighing into her ministrations as her free hand started to push his remaining clothing down his legs. Shyly, he toed out of his leather shoes and bent down awkwardly to remove his slacks and socks while letting her continue to do magical things with her hand. Like the good soldier, because of course he would, he folded his slacks and tossed them to the desk where their coats were. Only Steve Rogers would care about maintaining proper creases in his uniform while getting his dick rubbed down. For some strange reason, which should probably be studied for science, she found that attractive (and can you _really_ fault her on that?).

He was now completely naked, and it took her all of five seconds to take in the picture. Miles of long, thick expanses of skin and muscle. Just a huge hunk of man-meat, with a pretty face? Are you fucking kidding? It was like winning the lottery; lots of cheering and alarms going off signaling the win of some lucky bastard. In her head, all the bells and whistles were going off, and she was holding her own sign of Lucky Bitch with an arrow pointing down directly at her.

He was looking truly nervous again, shifting around on his feet as if he wanted something to cover, at least, some portion of himself. That would be a fucking travesty. She realized that she still had her undergarments on, and figuring he probably understood where things were going, she reached behind her back to unclasp the soft fabric of her brazier. She lets the straps slide down her arms, revealing the swell of her proportioned breasts before she dropped the article to the side with his socks and other forgotten clothes. His eyes widened, and, she corrected herself, _that_ was the most adorable expression she had ever seen. Like a kid in a toy store, his hands lifted like he wanted to touch, but wasn’t sure if he could. He just hovered those large, shovel-sized hands in the space between their bodies. Instead of wrapping both of her hands around the throbbing erection at her hip, she grabbed his wrists instead and pressed his palms to her breasts. Unbelievably, his eyes got wider and it took him a few blinks before he actually started to squeeze.

Releasing his wrists to allow the man to figure out what he wanted to do with her tits, she wrapped one around the back of his neck and pulled him down to attack his mouth, with her other hand resting on his ribs. To say the feeling of hard muscle gliding under smooth skin was a religious experience would be an understatement. She deserved a fucking award for the self-restraint she was showing; if she had even an ounce less, this man would be a fucking heap of sweat and cum in no less than ten minutes. That would be a sight, but an even better sight might be watching him as he falls apart inside of someone else for the first time. Yep.

She groaned into his mouth and used the hand on his neck to start pushing his head down. Being a good soldier, he followed her lead and kissed his way down her neck. So thankful for that friend of his that told him about this, she sighed as he moved one hand and pressed his tongue to her right nipple, wrapping that arm around her back. She dug her fingers into his hair as he licked and laved at her nipple, dropping his other hand to her hip so he could give the other attention. Now he really was that kid, this time in a candy store, just licking away at a lollipop as if it were his favorite flavor. His little groans and grunts against her sent vibrations that went straight to her core, and her panties never stood a fucking chance against him. The slick between her thighs was bordering on uncomfortable, and she needed the sodden fabric off, and she needed him inside her. Right now.

Reaching and grabbing onto whatever part of his arms she could, she pushed and pulled until his hands rested low on her hips. “Take these off,” she ordered, nicely, because he did outrank her, let’s be realistic. He took his mouth off of her nipple with a _pop_ and stood to his full height, and _oh fuck_, the fabric might just fall down her legs on its own volition due to water-weight. He held her gaze for a second, fear quickly draining to excitement as he looped his thumbs into the side of the satin and started to pull down. He leaned over her, resting his chin on her shoulder, to watch the undergarment slide over the swell of her ass before gravity one and let it drop to her feet. Unable to resist surprising temptation, he reached behind her and grabbed ahold of her cheeks with his massive hands and kneaded. She swallowed thickly at the sound of his deep groan, rumbling through his outrageously broad chest pressed enticingly close to her own.

Have it written, a new amendment in the Constitution: Captain America, the pinnacle of all things wholesome and patriotic, was an ass man. If his hands weren’t kneading her ass like two firm mounds of fucking pizza dough, she would be having him spanking them until they were as blue as that unfairly attractive Captain America get-up. For the first time since she pulled him into the office, Steve Rogers seemed to be completely at ease grabbing, squeezing, and caressing her ass like it was something special. She wanted to say something snarky about him liking it so much, but she was afraid he would stop doing what he was doing. Every time he pulled on her cheeks she could feel the cool air hit her wet center and it sent a magnificent chill up her spine.

When it seemed he had his fill, he stood up, keeping his hands on the tops of her glutes as he looked down at her with that shy grin, like he was embarrassed of his own actions. “I um, I want to try something.” He worried his lip between his teeth, apparently half-expecting for her to turn him down. As if that could ever be an option.

“What are you wanting to try?” she asked coyly, stepping out of the crumpled underwear on the ground and kicking them to the side. Hopefully, they were not needed for a while longer. Maybe, _just maybe_, they would be dry by the time they were done. Fat chance since she had been dripping the moment her hand touched his gigantic forearm.

“So, Bucky, again,” he started tilting his head back and forth as he spoke. Fuck, he was so adorable. “Told me about using my, um,” he cut himself off, forgoing words by holding up one hand and wiggling his fingers in front of her face. If it had been anyone else, she would have rolled her eyes, but him doing it was not only cute, but made her eyes sparkle with the possibility of being stretched by those thick fingers _before_ being stretched to capacity by that weapon of destruction he called a dick. She went to say something, but was promptly shut up by his next statement. “And my mouth.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised anticipation coating her words like her pussy would be coating his tongue. Oh _fuck_, she had not been expecting that at all. She wasn’t a monster. No… she would never deny the good Captain something he wanted. If he wanted to finger-fuck and tongue-fuck her, then let those star-spangled banner fingers wave.

“I probably won’t be good at it, but I’d like to try,” he said, and she realized that she hadn’t even answered him, getting too caught up in her own imagination to stick to the present.

“Yes, please,” she breathed out, perhaps a _little_ too eagerly, but suave was overrated when you had an offer this fucking wonderful being handed to you on a muscle-bound, vibranium-plated platter. He appeared genuinely pleased with the opportunity to try it out, until he realized he had absolutely no idea how to even begin to do what it was he wanted to try. He stood there, staring down at her, his eyes wandering over her body to land at the spot between her thighs, and wondered how one gracefully inserted their fingers into a human being.

Leaning back up to press her lips to his, she waited until he was pleasantly distracted before wrapping her fingers around his wrist and slowly lowering his hand down her stomach. She was so wet already, essentially a damn slip-n-slide for his fingers, and when the heat of his hand came in contact with her sensitive flesh, another gush of arousal pooled there. They gasped into each other’s mouths as she guided his hand back and forth between her legs, one finger gliding through her folds effortlessly. She hoped he knew it was because of him. She hoped this friend of his explained that, as well. She feared explaining to the American equivalent of a Greek God how he gave her the ability to drown a toddler between her legs might get lost in translation.

Whether he understood it or not, he appeared to be enjoying the sensation, as strange as it might be initially. He was warmer than anyone else, and that heat radiating into her only added to the sensation. He definitely wasn’t put-off by it, if the rock-solid projectile missile pressing against her stomach was any indication of that. Eventually, she released his wrist to let him move about her lady bits on his own accord, thoroughly surprised when he dipped the tip of his finger into her entrance. He almost jumped from her gasp alone, but she clung to his biceps and met his startled expression with her own, throwing a little awe in there. In an entirely non-verbal exchange, she could see on his face that he was unsure if that was proper procedure (and god bless him) and also wanting to get that reaction out of her again and again. She bit her lip and nodded, he nodded in acknowledgment before, excitedly, slipping his finger inside of her again. Her mouth dropped at the slide of his digit, the concentration on his face as he aimed to watch her expression for any signal, positive or negative.

Oh…. _Artist fingers_. How on Earth those obscenely thick fingers could move so nimbly was a question that quickly died in her thoughts as he moved his middle finger _expertly_ inside her. His expression was purely incredulous, like he just couldn’t believe that he was actually doing it right. At this rate, she was ready to start taking off her medals and handing them to him. It felt like he was trying to draw some brilliant fucking masterpiece along her inner walls, and that was a feeling she was never going to forget. She had been ruined for anyone else by the _very_ dexterous fingers of Steve fucking Rogers.

“Add another,” she panted out, her hips squirming against his. She grabbed his cock in one hand and started to stroke it lightly as she felt another start to push inside along the first. Huge fingers, ladies and gentlemen, huge fingers felt _great_. Once again, he obeyed orders promptly and slowly slid his ring finger in next to the middle. “Kiss me.” Licking his lips and moving his fingers inside of her just right, slight curl and all, he lowered down and let her lick into his mouth. He whimpered into her mouth as she quickened the pace of her strokes, urging him to increase his own pace. The deeper he sunk his digits inside, the more the heel of his palm pressed into the most sensitive areas; each time she groaned against his lips.

It was now or never. If she didn’t do something and cum, the _moment_ she finally hopped onto that dick, she would explode, and she wasn’t sure if that was the expectation she wanted to set for him. That being said, she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t cum as soon as that thing entered her… so, yeah. He had said he wanted to use his fingers; check. He also said he wanted to try with his mouth (_sweet Jesus);_ open fucking box waiting to be checked. Trying to not get ahead of herself, there was one thing she needed to know about before she rode the freedom off of his face. With the hand not wrapped around his cock, she grabbed his wrist again, pulling up slowly until his fingers were sliding through her folds again. He pulled away from the kiss enough to look at her, brows furrowing, but when she brought his fingertips to that small bundle of nerves and (literally) shook against him, he raised an eyebrow.

“Do you feel that?” she asked through gritted teeth, taking in the sensation of him barely moving his fingers along that tiny organ and watching her reactions with rapt curiosity. He licked his luscious lips and nodded, eyes squinting as he continued to focus on that small nub. “That’s all you’ll ever need to know,” she continued, her legs quaking as he rubbed that spot experimentally, mapping out the location and learning it to memory. “Find that, and you’re golden.”

“With my mouth, too?” he asked, so innocently and nonchalantly that it should be illegal for such a mouth to sound like that. It nearly made her cum on the spot, to be frank. However, she pulled herself together (and her jaw off the fucking floor) and managed to nod her approval without the wheeze threatening to escape her lungs. Deciding that she needed to take some of the power back in this pleasure factory they were creating, she grabbed the hand he had between her thighs and brought it up to her lips. She licked a long line over the two fingers that had been doing the things inside of her, and watched in utter delight as his jaw unhinged from his face and dropped to the ground like discarded metal. Well, almost. She sucked both of those too-large fingers into her mouth, the tips tickling the back of her throat, and she took his very slow blink, signaling mild brain malfunction, as a small victory.

“How do you want me?” she asked against his lips, and he pulled back enough to look at her in confusion, as if he had no idea there were multiple ways to do it. She smiled sweetly, because he really was the most adorable thing she had ever seen. You know, if adorable could also be the sexiest thing she had ever seen and probably would ever see. “Take me to the desk,” she instructed, staring at his lips before slowly raising her gaze to his eyes. He did the same, taking much longer to make eye contact, but when he did, he nodded and wrapped one arm around her back and grabbed the back of her thigh with the other.

He hefted her up into his arms as if she were nothing, and it was glorious to finally feel her legs wrap around the tree-trunk he called a torso. She dug one hand into his hair, the other gripped onto the top of his round shoulder, and it was like being in the arms of an American demi-god. Scratch that. She _was_ in the arms of an American god; tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and fucking _gorgeous._ It was hilarious, the irony; A German scientist helping America create a super-soldier to defeat Hitler and his Nazis with the embodiment of Hitler’s fucking wet-dream in red, white, and blue leather. It was the biggest slap in the face to the mad-man of a Führer.

She kissed him feverishly as he took the few steps over to the desk so gracefully while carrying another human being it should be annoying. She realized that she hadn’t specified that he should lay her down on the desk, but she didn’t need to, apparently, because he took it to his own understanding to set her down on the wood, carefully. Far too carefully, like she was ninety years-old and going to break if he tossed her down like she had hoped for. She kept her legs tight around his hips, keeping his hips and that ridiculous cock between her legs, pressed flush against her slick flesh. He groaned lightly as he nipped at her bottom lip (and what a fast learner) and let his hands glide down over the sides of her thighs.

“Tell me what to do,” he whispered in a hoarse, throaty tone that sent literal chills down her entire body. Once this man learned how to talk dirty, no one was going to be able to keep their clothes on in his presence.

“You want me to teach you?” she asked, and it was more a statement than a question, but no one was really going to fault her on that. She dug the heels of her shoes into his ass as she grabbed his jaw in one hand and forced him to look at her. His lips parted at her hold, the blue in his eyes almost swallowed by black, and he exhaled loudly.

“Yes, please,” he replied, just as huskily as before. _Oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes, yes. _She gave him a quick peck on the lips before leaning back enough to prop herself up on her hands behind her back. His eyes raked her form as she moved, the hands on her legs twitching just slightly.

“Kiss down my body,” she said, and he slowly lowered his mouth to her chest and started to plant short, wet kisses down the center of her torso. Occasionally his tongue would make contact with skin, and it was hot against her flesh. He knelt down and kept his hands on the tops of her knees while he hesitated to kiss below her navel. She gasped at the feel of his breath puffing against her hips and the way he looked up at her from his position. It was obscene to look that good. Rude, actually. She realized he was waiting for further instruction, his mouth busying along her hips, purposefully avoiding her center. “Kiss along my inner thighs.” Her voice was quieter than she wanted, but she was just trying to remember to breathe when he followed her words perfectly. Slowly, she lifted her legs and rested the backs of her knees on top of his shoulders.

He appeared to like having her smooth thighs framing his head and he gripped the tops of her legs as his mouth worked along the delicate skin on either side of his face. He started from her knees and slowly worked his way up towards the apex, his breath just as shaky as hers the closer her got to where she desperately wanted those lips. He sucked a barely-there mark into the soft curve of her inner thigh and licked his lips, eyeing the glistening flesh of her sex before searching her eyes for another order. Arousal washed over her in a wave of heat as she braced herself for the first press of his tongue. “Lick,” she instructed softly, the anticipation prickling all over her skin as he stuck his tongue out and licked a short, thick stripe along her slit. Gasping, her eyebrows shot up towards her hairline as she nodded, urging him to repeat the action. The second swipe of his tongue was electrifying. It was longer, stronger, and persistent. He made a pleased sound before pulling away and giving her a delightful smile.

It felt good, that too-hot tongue felt fucking wonderful between her legs, and while she wanted to give him all the praise she could, she needed more of it. Adjusting herself to lean on one arm, she brought the other forward and buried her fingers in that perfect hair and pulled his face to where she wanted it. He made a short, startled sound before diving in like a goddamn natural at eating-out. His timid licks soon transitioned to purposeful strokes of his tongue as she moaned and gasped, tugging at the golden strands between her fingers.

“Yes, yes, just like that,” she moaned shamelessly when the flat of his tongue pressed against her clit. The smart man that he was repeated the action, increasing the speed and pressure until he had her writhing under his grasp. He hooked one hand around her hip and let the other press into her lower stomach, keeping her still and right where he wanted her without any trouble. Nothing is as sexy as when someone actually looks like they’re enjoying what they’re doing, and at that moment, Steve Rogers looked positively thrilled to have his tongue inside her. She was more than okay with that. To have her thighs wrapped around the face of a goddamn national monument was worth the defacement of a national treasure charges she was sure to receive. She was ruining that face, slicking it up with all the juices he was pulling from her, and she loved it. “Use your fingers and flick that spot I showed you,” she choked out, just barely able to form the words as he continued to drink her in and let her squeeze his head between her legs. It wasn’t like she was going to hurt him.

After a few attempts, he got the flicking down perfectly and slowly inserted not one, but _two _fingers into her below his chin. The intrusion was a welcomed change in sensation and he immediately curled the digits slightly as he started to fuck her with them. It was then, at that moment, she realized that she was going to come all over that immaculate jawline. The impending orgasm completely snuck up on her, and by the way her body was beginning to shake and burn from the inside, it was going to be a fucking tidal wave. Her thighs squeezed his head even tighter, her breathing became ragged, and a slew of broken expletives poured from her mouth in breathy chants. He looked concerned, almost like he wanted to stop and ask her if she was okay, but she pressed him even harder against her sex by the grip in his hair and bit her lip. She hoped to whatever god was listening that he didn’t fucking stop _ever_.

That sinfully silky tongue continued to flick and lick at her clit, occasionally dipping down and gathering more of her essence (apparently the taste of pussy was something that fueled the good Captain) before assaulting her sensitive bud again. The fingers inside her continued to plunder her inner walls and paint portraits of pleasure for no one to see but him.

“_Fuck, fuck_, Steve, you’re gonna make me cum,” she groaned, rocking her hips down onto his face and soaking in all those delicious little moans and grunts that were muffled by her anatomy. If her informality bothered him, it didn’t show on what amount of his face she could see. His blue eyes were boring into her soul, almost pleading her to lose herself for him, and damn her if she wouldn’t follow that fucking order. His free hand held onto her thigh hard, and she was sure there would be small bruises from his fingers to admire later, and she was positive she watched his eyes slightly roll back when she tugged on his hair even harder. It was all way too good, and she wasn’t prepared for it to be that good. She could feel her orgasm licking at her insides, just waiting for the right moment, the right stimulation, to erupt. “I’m so fucking close, don’t stop,” she pleaded, her hips grinding uncontrollably from where she was perched on the edge of the desk. Strong shoulders braced under her knees, keeping her from writhing off the desk. She wanted to scream, wanted to shout his name for the entire bunker to hear, but she refrained out of respect for her superior officer.

What tipped her over, what made her hear the distant cries of a bald eagle soaring towards freedom through a sky of raining fireworks and ammunition, was the deep growl vibrating from his throat straight inside of her at the first feel of her fluttering around his fingers. She felt her lips moving in a chant of _don’t stop, don’t stop_ but couldn’t register her voice. She felt only a hot, thick tongue and strong fingers literally coaxing her inner muscles to clamp so tight she feared she would never open for anyone ever again. When her breathing returned to less embarrassing pattern, she let her legs fall off of his shoulders to rest back down on the wood of the desk. Her vision returning, she found him still on his knees between her legs with the most surprised and proud smirk on his shiny, swollen lips.

She pulled him up, her eyes practically begging for the swinging to-scale replica of the Washington monument between his legs to hurry the fuck up and get inside her. Not out of breath, at all, he leaned over her body and pressed his forehead to hers. In an act to show how truly fucking grateful she was for his mouth, she stuck her tongue out and licked along the glistening skin of his chin and lips, coated in her essence. He exhaled a soft, barely audible groan when her tongue caught his upper lip, and her patience became nonexistent. Capturing his mouth in a lusty kiss, she reached down between them and wrapped her hand around his thick, pulsing member. He stuttered into the kiss, rolling his hips into her touch, placing the head of his cock right against her readied entrance. He pulled back, eyes wide, breath shallow and fast, but he looked ready. Keeping that hand wrapped around the base of his cock, she brought her other hand to his hip, legs wrapping around lean waist, and urged him forward. At the slightest push, both of his hands shot out and gripped the edges of the desk to hold his weight, and his jaw dropped as he continued to slide inside.

The stretch was exhilarating; riding the right side of uncomfortable. So much pressure between her thighs, so much skin and muscle, and so much fucking _need_. He seated himself fully inside of her channel, staying still and soaking in all the sensations new to him. She loved the way his face would scrunch upon his slightest movements, how his lips would part with the sexiest gasps, the erotically sinful way he would bite his lip. Holy fuck he was extraordinary. He started with slow, shallow thrusts but slowly eased into a more natural rutting pattern than men just seemed born with the ability to do. She could tell he wasn’t trying to put any strength behind the thrusts, but that didn’t stop her entire body from trying to slide up and away from him every time his hips gently brushed hers. After minutes of gaining confidence, no doubt fueled by her almost constant moans, he kissed her gently, rolling his hips into her in a soft, gentle motion. It was _so fucking good._

“Harder,” she gritted out, pulling his hip back to her in a more forceful fashion. She watched his brows knit together as he snuck an arm under her back so he could grasp the back of her neck, while his other hand held the side of her hip. He licked his lips once before driving into her with gusto. She gasped, loudly, eyes screwed shut, mouth open wide, with a hint of a grin at the corners, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “More, more, more,” she begged, thoroughly impressed with the power he put behind it. Very well, Captain. She contemplated saying something in Russian so that he had no choice but to pound the Communism out of her, with his Democratic cock, but her voice was, quite literally, fucked out of her by the following thrust. To say she felt her stomach try to make its way up her throat would be an understatement. Overwhelming and necessary were the only words to describe the feeling of America’s Pride and Joy fucking into her like a battering ram. The best part, he had no fucking clue.

He just hovered over her, holding on to her smaller frame with a look of wonder and exhilaration, mouth open with grunting pants, eyes shining with the joy of being inside of a woman for the first time. The serum that turned him into the patriotic god he was, however, he was actually rearranging her internal organs in the best of ways. She never knew the fear of having your pelvis break could be so fucking hot. But there she was.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted in tandem with his thrusts, smiling against his jaw when she noticed he was making the desk skid across the floor in moderately loud shrieking sounds. “Take it, take what you want,” she offered, her voice coming out more raw than she intended. The words seemed to grab his attention and he kissed and licked down her neck, really starting to put some muscle into his hips. She meant it. However, it was definitely not the time to ask to be slapped in the face while his dick carved out new places for itself within her. Steve Rogers probably would not understand why she would want that because he couldn’t even bring himself to hurt a fly, even if the damn thing kept him up all night. Unless, of course, you were a fly that stood in the way of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. Then, then you were fucked. Alas, she was not an anti-freedom fly and would not be getting swatted with the fervor of Uncle Sam’s right hand.

She ran her hands along the large expanse of his back, digging her nails into the hard, but supple flesh and dragging down and across, hopefully leaving _I was here_ marks, even if subtlety because, well, super-soldiers don’t crack easy. Much to her throbbing, ridiculously wet pussy, the Captain _really_ liked getting scratched, if that animalistic growl had any say in it. She felt the desk hit the wall, and after a brief moment of ensuring the wood wouldn’t burst through said way, he continued to plow into her, sweaty, slapping skin sounds and all.

“Oh god,” he groaned, swallowing thickly, blue eyes squeezing shut as his body rolled like a tidal wave into hers. He laid himself over top of her, letting her feel his absolute mammoth weight, suffocating her in the gleaming muscles of his chest. “_Oh my god, oh my god.” _His words came out lower that time, a breathy supplication for the sensations he was experiencing to keep going, to continue to grow and grow until he combusted. She moaned against the bottom of his throat, digging her teeth into salty skin and soaking up every noise he made. His voice could drive her over the edge, she was so close to falling over again; a kamikaze mission because she would, surely, die cumming with his cock buried so deep inside of her, stretching her open to her body’s limits.

Another deep, guttural groan and teeth scrape her neck. Fireworks. Red, white, and blue sparks explode in her vision, hot mouth against her neck grounding her back to Earth from where her soul was going for that elusive out-of-body experience. From what she could tell by the stutter in his thrusts, he was close, too. The thought of making him cum from her own orgasm made her inner walls flutter around the thick stretch of his girth. “Yes, please, Captain, harder,” she prayed, one hand gripping into the damp blonde strands at the back of his neck while the other scratched down his back hard enough to make an ordinary man bleed. He leaned up enough to crush his mouth to hers, teeth digging into her bottom lip before his tongue curled behind her top teeth. He groaned lowly into her mouth, the hand at her hip squeezing almost to the point of painful. The bruises would be fucking glorious; marks of justice brought to her body by the best assault imaginable.

The grip on the back of her neck shifted so he could lightly wrap that hand along her throat, directly below the hinge of her jaw. The most explicit, wanton moan erupted from her lips, her head falling back briefly before snapping her eyes back up to meet his. The face of a warrior, determined to decimate anything in his path, stared back at her. Dangerous, heated, _wrecked_. She wondered if that was all Steve Rogers, boy from Brooklyn, or if that side of him was enhanced by the serum as well. Either way, she was definitely not complaining, more like praying exhalations to those Erskine and Stark geniuses. 

“Yes, _fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,_” she chanted more times than she could count. Some came out louder, others a mere whimper she couldn’t even pretend to be embarrassed about. At that point, his dick was using her cervix as a punching bag, and it was the best beating she’d ever received. The wall behind her head sounded like it was just a few pounds of pressure away from cracking, apparently getting a good beating in, as well. All that mattered was that the legs on the desk didn’t give out under the absolute abuse they were receiving on behalf of her and the _virtuous_ Captain. There’s no telling what could break if that disaster happened.

On the brink of absolute bliss, she tightened her legs around his waist, loving the way _her_ heels bounced on the small (but _so_ not small) of his back with every propulsion of his hips. Bringing both hands to his face, cupping his jaw and letting her thumbs caress that pouty bottom lip, she held his gaze as best she could while they both were jolting uncontrollably. The grip on her jaw tightened just slightly, and she groaned into it. She was so fucking close, just a little bit more and she would snap. He searched her eyes, and with a simple nod of her head, he started pounding into her even harder, the hand on her hip moving to grip the edge of the desk and use the surface for leverage.

Her jaw dropped down to her chest, and with one final inhale, her inner walls fluttered and spasmed uncontrollably around the relentless glide of his cock. She could hear herself whimpering, stifling the scream she wanted to release, and she did her best to keep her eyes on his. Fuck was it wonderful, the look of relief and anticipation as he finally realized he could finish, as well. “Cum for me, Steve, cum all over me,” she begged, her walls still squeezing his member almost too tightly. He moaned loudly, dropping his forehead to her chin to try and keep his rhythm steady. He stayed like that for a moment, and she hardly had time to stroke his hair before he was leaning up completely, his torso rolling as he thrust into her a handful more times.

Perfect jaw constitution falling slack, pink lips parted wide, tongue just barely visible, and eyes heavily hooded but bright, and hair a goddamn glorious mess, the Captain pulled out with a choked gasp. Licking her hand, she reached down and stroked him off, admiring the way the abs of justice tensed and flexed as his chest heaved. His head fell back, exposing the thick lines of his throat, and the cock in her hand hardened like granite. His mouth opened slightly more and another of his sinful growls echoed through the room as he started shooting his load all over her body. All. Over. That face, the face of his climax, should be carved into Mount Rushmore immediately. When he finally stopped pulsing in her palm, she eased him through it, dropping her hand and letting his heavy cock rest along her pubic bone. He ran a hand through his damp hair, distressing it even more, because of course he could find a way to make himself even more fucking beautiful. It was so tempting, to just lean up and lick the entirety of his body. Thankfully, her muscles felt like jelly, and she was succumbed to remaining prone on the desk for the time being.

Covered in the thick, warm ribbons of his release, he could parade her out into the bunker, let everyone see what he had done, and she’d wear the sign _Cap’s Greedy Cockslut_, proudly, as a fucking necklace. While he stood between her legs looking all of the Adonis being he was, glistening and beautiful, she surveyed the mess she had been turned into with total satisfaction. She wanted it everywhere, covering her, in her, she wanted to taste it. An idea popped into her head, and she looked up towards Steve with hope and need in her eyes. Would it be too much? Maybe? No. This man had been to war. This man had incapacitated multiple men by throwing his shield like a fucking frisbee… He could handle this. Surely.

“Feed it to me,” she pleaded, her eyes darting down to the spectacularly artistic white-stripes of Liberty adorning her stomach and chest. Slightly panting because, let’s face it, boy was putting out, his own gaze darted to his cum, back to her face, back to his cum, and then finally landed on her face with charming confusion. As seductively as one could be while asking to be fed ejaculate, she grabbed his hand, drug his fingers through the mess, and brought his hand to her mouth. She licked and sucked his release from his fingers, and to his amazement, he appeared really pleased with that display. Without prompting, he scrapped up more of his cum and let her lick it off his fingers until all the evidence was pooled in her stomach like a meal. She moaned, licking her lips free of any left-over release, and watched as he raised his eyebrows, propping his hands on the desk on either side of her shoulders.

“You have quite the mouth on you for a lady,” he huffed out, a coy smirk on his flushed face. It seemed that all one needed to do was get him off a few times in order to bring out the Brooklyn in him, less Nazi-fighting soldier.

“I apologize if I have offended your noble sensibilities, Sir,” she responded, her own smirk adorning her licked-clean lips.

He chuckled at that, reaching along the desk until he found her uniform jacket in the slightly sweaty pile. “I’m not that noble,” he started, peering at her jacket until he found the set of pins he was looking for. “Corporal,” he finished with her rank, setting the jacket down back on the desk. He, honest to god, winked at her with his _still fucking hard_ dick resting along her lower stomach. Oh. _Oh_. He wanted to play. She could fucking play.

“Care to show me how ignoble you can be?” She hoped and prayed that if maybe, _maybe_, she got him a little riled up, a little agitated, _maybe_ he would pull her hair and face-fuck her until the sun came up.

“I can do this all day,” he replied with a smirk, pulling off of her enough to manhandle her around and press her front against the uniform-decorated desk, hips biting into the wood, super-soldier cock pressing between the cheeks of her ass. “I want to try it this way.” He grabbed the plump flesh of her ass firmly between long fingers, and she fucking _prayed_ he was biting his lip from the view. She turned her head to the side and grabbed the edges of the desk, readying herself for a fucking plowing, like an M18 Hellcat through narrow streets, just fucking up walls in its wake.

“At the ready, Sir,” she stated over her shoulder, trying not to laugh at the way his mouth fell open, eyes wide in surprise and admiration. He might not fully understand the role of play in sexual encounters, but he seemed ready to start whatever they just started, and it was electrifying.

Placing one hand in the center of her back, the other gripping her hip, she felt him shuffle around behind her, the head of his cock lining up with her used opening. “On my mark,” he replied, taking his rightful place as Captain. He let her anticipate it a little, actually enjoying the little wiggle of her hips in a desperate attempt to get him to slide home. Leaning down, because losing his virginity clearly made him a little shit, he kissed the back of her neck and whispered in her ear. “Engage.”

There was a split second when her eyes widened in surprise that he could be so damn fucking clever in this situation before her mouth opened in a silent shout when he plunged his cock as deep as it could go in her body cavity. _Yes, fuck yes_.

Oh, bless you, Bucky, whoever you are, for giving your friend plenty of details to work with.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... there you have it XD  
I think anyone reading this has come out a little more American than they were before.  
haha
> 
> As I said in the notes above, any prompts would be helpful. I write for another fandom, but I could get down with this, too. haha. 
> 
> Luni.... how are you doing? ;)


End file.
